All Chapters of Divorced Mate: Now Untouchable: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Astra's POV Phantom’s grave now lay on the highest ridge of my territory, where the wind never rested.It had taken effort to bring her here.After the fire, her remains had been cremated and buried under Aria’s identity. To the outside world, Aria had died in the flames. No questions and no investigations that went too deep.Phantom had been reduced to a substitute corpse.I had to secretly exhume the urn myself. No ceremony. No witnesses. I lifted what was left of her and brought her back to Amurica where she belonged.Lycus Vane hadn’t interfered. He didn't even know Aria was alive. As far as Lunaris was concerned, Aria was already a ghost.The land was open here. Sky stretching wide, clean air sharp with frost and pine, the moon pulling gently at the bones. This was the sort of place wolves respected. They told me not to stand too long. My ribs were still cracked. Every breath tugged at half-healed burns along my side. Even my wolf, stubborn and protective, kept pressing agains

Sandra’s POVThe door shut behind Lycus, the sound sharp and final.That was what did it.Not the healers’ careful glances. Not the bitter medicine still burning my throat. Not even the ache in my chest from hours of forcing myself to cough and groan.It was that single click. Because it told me everything. He hadn’t paused or looked back.I lay there for a while, staring at the door like it might open again if I willed it hard enough. Like he’d suddenly realize something was wrong and that I needed him.It didn’t.The room stayed silent.“He… left?” I whispered.No one answered.The healers stood frozen, eyes lowered, pretending very hard not to exist. I pushed myself upright in one sharp movement, ignoring the wave of dizziness. The blanket slid down, tangling around my legs.“He left,” I said again, louder.One of the healers flinched.“He left me,” I snapped, my voice rising. “For her.”My chest burned from humiliation.I had calculated everything. Every tear. Every cough. Every

Aria’s POVSera had gentle hands.I noticed it the first morning she helped me wash my face. The burn salve still stung when it touched skin that was healing, but her fingers never hesitated, nor pressed too hard. She worked the way someone does when they’ve gone through pain.“Tell me if it hurts,” she said softly, dabbing along my cheek.“It always hurts,” I replied, then added, quieter, “But it’s fine.”She smiled faintly. We spent most mornings like this.I sat by the narrow window in Astra’s inner keep, wrapped in blankets that smelled faintly of wolf-hide and old herbs. Sera perched on a low stool, supplies laid out with quiet order, salves, a clean cloth, and rune-thread that hummed faintly when she touched it.The healers said my face was recovering well.New skin had started to knit where the worst of the burns had been. Pink, tender, but no longer raw. My wolf helped more each day, pushing warmth into the damage, stitching me back together in ways even runes couldn’t fully

Astra’s POVFor a split second, she froze. Then instinct took over.Sandra straightened, lifting her chin as if pride could shield her. Her gaze snapped to me, sharp and burning with outrage.“I’ll have you know,” she snapped, voice shrill with authority, “I am Lycus Vane’s mate. The Luna of Lunaris. If you dare touch me, I will make sure you don’t survive this city.”She threw her title like a weapon. It had always worked before.I didn’t answer, but drove the needle into her arm.Her scream tore out of her throat, half shock, half disbelief. She tried to swing at me with her free hand, but she was too slow. I pressed the plunger down before she could recover.My palm cracked across her face. The sound echoed across the room. She hit the bed hard, eyes wide, apparently stunned by the fact that it had happened at all.“You—” Her voice shook. “You hit me? You’re just a doctor—”I tilted my head, studying her the way one studies a creature that has finally realized it is not at the to

Sandra's POV I woke up screaming.The sound tore out of my throat and the pain followed immediately after, sharp, blinding, consuming everything else. My right arm felt like it wasn’t mine anymore. “Ah—! It hurts—!”I thrashed instinctively, only to make it worse. The moment I moved, fire exploded up my arm, tearing a hoarse sob out of me. My vision blurred, and tears spilled over.“Sandra—Sandra, don’t move!” my mother’s voice cried out beside me.Hands pressed me back down. The bed creaked. Someone shouted for a healer.I couldn’t hear any of it clearly.All I could see was my hand.Or what was left of it.Wrapped in thick bandages, soaked faintly red, twisted at an angle that made my stomach churn. Even through the layers of cloth and salves, I could feel bones crushed, flesh ruined, nerves screaming.My hand. My beautiful hand.The one I used to gesture with, to hold cups delicately, to rest on Lycus’s arm when we appeared in public. Now—“No… no, no, no…” I whispered, shaking